


Je connais bien Rome

by Cillo89



Series: Hetalian stories [8]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Historical Hetalia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:15:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22558483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cillo89/pseuds/Cillo89
Summary: Look into the past.
Series: Hetalian stories [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/504832
Kudos: 14





	Je connais bien Rome

_Je connais bien Rome._

_Une nuit, j’y ai passé six siècles_

* * *

It was another of those nights. Those frightening nights, the ones most people don’t survive. The ones you don’t wake up from. I never stopped believing it would one day end. This hatred, this combat… It had no reason but power-hungriness. Mother always spoke about tyrants of the South. She explained they were driven by power and money. That nothing else mattered to them, as long as they had what they sought.

They were ready to do the worst to obtain what they longed for. Mother showed me all the destroyed villages, everything they plundered, all the lives they have taken.

I never traveled, only following Mother for the army. She told me the world was too dangerous, that the…  Romans … could be anywhere. I didn’t know anywhere else but Alesia, and yet sometimes, I felt like I knew the world. Some nights, I could dream of towns I had never seen before. Mother repeated me it was normal, that I had nothing to fear. That the Gods were with me.

I could not close my eyes. I listened to every scream I heard, all the death cries which echoed clearly through the fiery airs. Another of those nights where Mother had to fight. It had been a long time since she had to fight, but I guess the battle was coming to an end. I sat up on the bed and carefully made my way towards the door. I remember how the door just happened to be blown away as I approached it. My stomach was grumbling like crazy, but there was nothing to eat in the oppidum. I barely had the power to walk but I wanted to know. I threw a glance at the outside world. In the far distance, behind the walls the Romans had built, an inferno was burning the sky. Around me, everywhere, the houses were burning. Men and women from all ages were running to the front battle. Archers were throwing their weapons to the ground and also running to the walls.

What did they expect? Why were we losing? And most of all… where is Mother?

I was alone, standing in front of the house I occupied with Mother. I had nowhere to run to and all I could think of was Mother, lost in the mass of violence unleashing itself below my feet. Mother loved to fight, she always liked to tease Rome, and I began to cry, thinking he got his revenge for all the things she had destroyed.

I removed my scarf: Mother always said it was dangerous to have something floaty in the midst of battle.

As a man passed by, seemingly disturbed, he caught a glance of me and began to visibly panic.

“Maponos! What are you doing here? Where is your Mother?!”

“I don’t know”, I answered through my teary eyes. “Have you seen her?”

The man sighed and took my hand, showing me the sky in the distance.

“You see the fire over there, right?”

I could only nod.

“Your Mother’s certainly there. She’s fighting against Rome.”

“Is she winning?”

“You may have to flee, Maponos. The Romans will soon be in the oppidum. They will look for you.”

The man embraced me tightly and ran away, also towards what seemed like the battlefield. The sunlight was beginning to beam behind the inferno. The sounds of war stopped suddenly, but after a couple of seconds, laughter, screams of rejoicing, war cries, roared. It was like an earthquake of fury, a massive movement of joy. The walls surrounding the oppidum fell like one man, creating an explosion-like sound through the whole city and its surroundings.

I needed to find Mother. It was hard to run with this weak body of mine, I had been missing meals because of the lack of food. My legs threatened to collapse against my consent. It was painful to put so much weight on them. I wanted to cry, first from lack of sleep, second from lack of energy, and third from lack of Mother. I wanted to hold her tightly, I wanted her to make my fears vanish just by hugging me. I screamed her name over and over again. The sole responses I could get were the  enemy  soldiers stomping the ground  together . Fleeing was no option, Mother was still there! She always told me to wait for her to come back, that she would eventually get to me and help me.

I stopped running the second I felt a hand touch my shoulder. I froze. I knew it was not mother. Her hand was bigger than this. It was not as smooth as this one, I could feel its texture  through the thin fabric my clothes.

The hand then moved from my shoulder to my hair, taking some of my locks and toying with them a bit. I didn’t know who that was. I did not even jump as I heard this person speak:

“Hey kiddo, what’s your name?”

I never answer this question. Mother told me not to. It could endanger me, she said. It could lead me to the Roman lands where I would be help captive until death. She was very descriptive about it, giving me all the details I didn’t need but at least, I fully understood that Romans were not to be messed with and that one move could be the end of me.

The man, it was a manly voice, asked me my name another time, this time yelling. Once more, I kept my mouth shut.

He took me by the shoulders and turned me around, displeased by the fact I wasn’t looking at him. He began to scream in a language I did not know. I didn’t know what he was saying, and that I began to cry didn’t help either. I had my head lowered, he made me lift it up. My hands were clutched on my chest. I was pulling the collar of my clothes. His yelling eventually stop when the man who had tried to reassure me earlier came back and yelled my name. He screamed it with all his heart, so much that I myself jumped of fear.

“MAPONOS!”

The Romans behind him caught him and killed him before my eyes, a spear  through the ribcage, blood was pouring out from  the wound. They  had put an end to his life. Mine was now seriously endangered, more than ever.  He had screamed my name...

“Maponos?” the man next to me repeated. He glared up to his comrades and told me something, grabbing my collar to make sure I wouldn’t go away. They spoke to one another a long time, before deciding to release me and leave. I didn’t know what decisions they came up with, but at least I was free.

I wandered in the broken oppidum. There were no sounds, and when I heard a sound, no matter what it was, I hid. I didn’t want Romans to discover me and make them their slaves. Mother alrea-

I miss her. I don’t know where she is. It’s been hours or… I don’t know, the sun was already shining high upon the place, it means it had to be a long time since Mother had been missing. The oppidum was burning, shivering under the flames and collapsing. I only watched, screaming Mother’s name carefully from time to time. No answer came, and I was afraid the Romans would return and end what they began. Strangely, I was not afraid of the flames. The house being burned down did not scare me either. The will to find Mother was stronger than anything, I couldn’t find her if I shut myself away. I had to venture, to wander through the dangerous streets.

Sounds of marching came to me after some time alone. Mother was still nowhere to be found, and from what she told me, I had to hide.  If Romans come and I am not by your sides, hide. Hide until you are safe, then flee and come to me.”

I never found what I sought. There was no hiding place anymore as everything had died out under the fire. I ran in the opposite direction they were coming from, I didn’t want them to find me. They would sell me. I would be a slave all my life. Or I’d be killed, used until death… I could be crucified, I knew what they did to survivors…

My fears seemed endless, they were Barbarians, power-hungry fools who sought nothing but war and the death of their opponents. Mother told me they had many adversaries, but that every of them had been slowly taken to pieces, destroyed, annihilated. When I asked her if she would survive a fight against them, against  him , she never answered. I was afraid. I did not have the power nor the confidence to fight a grownup. Especially if it was Rome himself!

When I understood I was trapped and encircled, I let out a panicked shriek. I had nowhere to run, unless I was bold enough to run through the burning woods of the collapsed houses, but it would be too dangerous. I was scared, oh so, so scared. I had nothing to lose; that is why I dared to scream “mamma”, because she was my last hope of protection and security. The Romans would get me. I was lost, I considered myself dead already. Do you imagine how bad I felt? It had been a nightmare for me. Guess what? It wouldn’t end here.

The Romans eventually came to me. I was sat across the pathway, crying my heart out, whispering “mamma” endlessly. When a soldier came by, he was ready to kill me, but a voice stopped him. I had not the heart to look up and see the man who had perhaps saved me or sealed my destiny as a slave, until he came so close I could feel his breath on my face.

“Salve, puer. Veni.”

He extended his arm and gripped my hand to take it in his. I had looked at his face: he was wearing a broad smile.

“Nomen mihi Roma est. Quid tuum?”

I did not understand what he was saying.  Roma was what struck me. It was him. I understood now. Mother described him to me very clearly: he was a not so aged man, brown hair and eyes. His hair was cut short, like the Barbarians they were, and it was hardly brushed. His skin was darker than mine, than Mother’s, than a lot of people I lived with.

His body was big, lots of muscles. Perhaps more than Mother, and she was very powerful herself.

He took me in his arms like he would do a baby. I was no baby back then, but it didn’t seem to matter to him. He forced my head on his shoulder. I couldn’t help but sniff violently, sobbing loudly and violently, wetting his armor. At the time, I didn’t understand what it was when a tintinnabulation reached my ears, nowadays, I think it was handcuffs. The sound of tinkling quickly went away, leaving me and Rome and this massacred oppidum.

I remember that he carried me to his troops, where all the men were shushed to silence when they began to scream their contentment to see me imprisoned between Rome’s arms. The Roman camp was large. I had stopped crying, my fatigued silhouette seemed lifeless on Rome’s shoulders as I observed carefully every pathways, every alleys, every guards of the camp. I was already planning my escape, of course I wouldn’t want to stay with this man. I wanted to see my  M other.

We passed by all kinds of soldiers recovering or being patched up after the victory they had in Alesia. Unfortunately, I was unable to locate the cages were the war prisoners would be held captive. I would have wanted to save them, but I apparently would flee alone. I didn’t even know where I wanted to flee, being far from Rome was just my goal, and freeing my mates would just result in them getting killed anyway.

We entered his personal tent, it was obvious from the bed and the clothes spread around. He made me lay on the bed, observed my face some seconds and proceeded to sit next to me, his eyes still focused on mine,  in mine.

I was deeply afraid. My fear was ineffable but not unfathomable. I was the prisoner of the strongest man on earth. The man my mother fabled about. He was mesmerizing, but dangerous.

He was speaking to me in Latin, but I did not get a word of it. His tone was knowing and charming, but it was of course to lure me in his trap. I knew it. I was not being paranoid, Mother told me this man was smart, but I had to be smarter. I had to make Mother proud by escaping by myself and finding her back. Finding the way home.

Rome spoke to me a long time before actually leaving. I had not gotten a word of his speech, yet he didn’t seem to care that much. As he left, I first didn’t dare to stand up. He could be anywhere, he was also certainly following my case. He had an eye on me, I had to be careful.

I eventually stood up, and against all odds, nobody came to me when I left the tent. I made my way through the calmest pathways, doing my best not to be noticed. I remember first going left, behind the tent. Where a man was marching. He was fully armed, his armor still on and a terrifying spear in the hand. His march was automatic enough, I could foretell where he would be and where he wouldn’t see me. I was really optimistic, until another man, not as tall as the soldier, came. He spoke to the soldier, who obviously was a subordinate, left quickly after the man was done speaking. I was really scared he would find me, I had no other choice but to come back in the tent. I was also having a bad presentiment, something among the line of “Rome was coming back”.

I was so young at the time, I couldn’t even hold a sword. Humanly, I was not even seven.

I turned around to head back to the entrance of the tent, but of course, I had been trapped. Rome was towering behind me, stomping one of his foot on the ground like Mother would when I did something bad.

That was rare.

He didn’t seem that happy that I sneaked out. He told me something in Latin, again I couldn’t understand it. He lifted me up violently and carried me like a bag, dropping me on the ground as soon as we entered the tent. He really seemed mad at me, and I started to cry again. He was cursing at me, that’s all I knew from his bitter tone. He quickly stopped his rambling and as I stuttered my mother’s name over and over again through my tears, he took me by the shoulders, made me raise my head and slapped me.

It was hard against my cheek but it wasn’t that painful. Mother was quite harsh as well when it came to punishments. It wasn’t anything I wasn’t used to. I knew the spanking would come next, but I wanted to see Mother. This man was terrifying, he was perhaps stronger than Mother after all. My instincts told me I had to fight back against the tyranny. I punched his leg, kicked his feet, tried to grasp any weapon which could help me to hurt him and make him go backwards, allowing me some space to run away. I found nothing. He merely lifted me up and ordered something harshly as he stepped outside the tent. Three men came to us, carrying a cage. Small-sized, perfect fit for me. I understood quickly. I had stopped crying soon after he had slapped me, I knew better than crying when it was obvious I was not wanted to. Mother told me that.

One of the men opened the door. Rome had put me on the ground, he had already disappeared inside the tent. A man pushed me inside with violence. I tried to escape, but it was all for nothing. He carried the cage away from the camp, looking for a dark place. He put the cage, and me inside, near a forest. He then left, without uttering a single word. I was so young, I repeat. All these thoughts I’ve told you, I realized them after many, many centuries. On the moment, I was just a scared little boy. I didn’t know further than the villages I had been to.

It was the most horrifying experience of my life. I had been scared to death whole nights, I spent one week alone in the forest. Animals tried to bite me, I kept screaming. Nobody came to me, I saw no one for one week. I didn’t eat anything for one week, the only water I had was the rain the Gods seemed happy to send me.

I cried my heart out each hour of the day and of the night, but I soon became too tired and thirsty to do so. I sobbed endlessly on the coldness of the cage. Dreamless slumber punctuated my time, that is all I remember. Everything else is blurred. I was so weak, I am surprised I didn’t die out there.

When Rome came to me, a week had passed and I was traumatized. I kept shivering, the cold would not leave me. He came to me with a bearded man, he didn’t look like any other Roman I saw until there.

“Maponos, we have to come to an agreement” he said to me after Rome spoke to him. “No, you have to agree with one thing. You’ll be freed as long as you behave with Rome here. He will give you the treatment every child would need. You’ll be fed and instructed. In exchange, you promise a good behavior towards the Roman republic.”

“Yes”, I had blabbered. When the cage had been opened, I jumped in Rome’s arms directly, clinging onto him like he was the only thread of my existence.

He caught me carefully, spoke something else in Latin, and led the three of us to his tent again. I was dead cold, dead hungry and dead thirsty. He gave me all the food I could ever ask for, everything. I ate a lot to make up for this whole week, and I drank the wine he gave me. I was reluctant at first, he could have poisoned the thing, but he kind of came to help me… I drank it. I was too thirsty to fight the urge, and after this meal, I slept one entire day.

When I woke up, Rome was next to me in the bed. He was slowly coming to consciousness as well, sitting up in bed.

He had his back turned to me, and I could see all his scars. Cuts everywhere, cuts which healed long ago but still seemed fresh on the flesh. Mother had them too. I didn’t have any, I wasn’t allowed to fight at such a young age. As he stood up, he turned and looked at me, thoughtful.

He stopped his train of thoughts to call his slaves. One dressed him up, the other was speaking to him. Soon, the one speaking turned to me and explained to me, in a language I understood:

“Little one, are you Maponos, child of Gaul?”

There was no room for lies, I knew it. I didn’t want to suffer another week of torture.

“Yes”, I had answered. “Where is she? Where is Mother?”

“Your mother died in the battlefield. She was killed.”

I didn’t accept it, of course. I didn’t want to. She couldn’t be dead, she promised she would always be there. That is what I relentlessly told myself. Such a warrioress? Dead?

Impossible. Unthinkable.

“Everything she possessed, everything she was is now you. You are the new Gaul.”

I didn’t flinch as this man spoke. The storm of emotions happened internally, I didn’t show it off. Rome wasn’t speaking anymore, he dismissed the slaves once he was fully dressed. Then, he came to me, sat me on the bed and gently  chased my sadness  away .

If you were to ask me now if I knew your grandfather, Feliciano, I would yes

I know Rome well.

  
  


_ One night, I spent six centuries with him. _

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a long, long while ago. It was supposed to be longer, but I made it a oneshot in the end. Not much to say about this.  
> The title and the last quote aren't from me, but weirdly enough, I also can't seem to find who said them first. It was in French, someone said "J'aime l'Islande. Une nuit, j'y ai passé vingt ans", so if you ever come across this, that's the origin to this fic.


End file.
